


Sunday Morning

by theauthorish



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 21:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17067347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthorish/pseuds/theauthorish
Summary: Tooru does not have a crush on Iwaizumi, thanks very much...At least, until he does.Then what?





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninimusic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninimusic/gifts).



> This is for ninimusic on tumblr!!! I hope you like it ♡
> 
> I tried really hard to base this on your pining and oblivious crush idea but it didn't... quite work out? Also I didn't really know how to not have some lust in there I'm sorry but I minimized it as much as possible.

Tooru officially  _ hated  _ Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

 

“I can't believe you turned this entire team against me!” he exclaimed, as everyone bar Iwaizumi cornered him in the locker room. “This is betrayal! Mutiny! Where is your loyalty to your captain--”

 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up already,” Matsukawa said, rolling his eyes.

 

“We’re sick of you making googly eyes at him,” Hanamaki said.

 

“Oikawa-san, I do believe that, just a few months ago, you told me confessing was-- and I quote-- ‘easy as pie, Yaha-chan!’” Yahaba piped up. Tooru decided to be kind and ignore the mocking falsetto with which his darling kouhai decided to use to mimic him. He was nice like that.

 

The meme team looked at Yahaba, then at each other, then at Tooru. They raised their eyebrows. “Take your own advice,  _ captain _ ,” Matsukawa said.

 

“Honestly, why would you preach something you won't do?” Hanamaki wondered.

 

Tooru hated everything. “Shut up! That advice was for Yaha-chan, because he wasn't doing anything about his crush on Kyouken-chan--”

 

“--don't call me that--” growled their future ace. He was thoroughly ignored. Tooru did note, though, that he was flushed a pretty shade of pink. He’d remember this for future teasing purposes-- after all, a good senpai-kouhai relationship always did involve a little bit of banter.

 

“--and I can't take that sort of advice if I don't have a crush!” he finished.

 

There was silence.

 

And then, from Kunimi, “Bullshit.” 

 

“ _ Kunimi, _ ” Kindaichi hissed. “Shouldn't you be a little… more polite…? He’s still our senpai--”

 

“So? This is still  _ bullshit _ .” Kindaichi looked even more horrified by the fact that Kunimi had said it not just once, but twice. He didn't protest any further though.

 

“Listen to Kindaichi, Kunimi-chan! You shouldn't swear at your upperclassman--”

 

“Unless he’s  _ right _ ,” Hanamaki cut in.

 

“Which he is, Oikawa. This whole pining-for-Iwaizumi thing is total bullshit. So is your reasoning behind it,” Matsukawa continued.

 

“Yeah, man.” Hanamaki nodded. “I mean, really? The whole ‘he’ll hate me and I don’t wanna lose what we have’ thing is so… cliche.”

 

Tooru didn't flinch at that, but it was a near thing. He could have sworn he’d been hiding it ( _ it  _ meaning that he had recently realized that--  _ objectively _ \-- Iwaizumi was an attractive man) well, but...

 

Well, even if they were right (they weren't!), he wouldn't be Oikawa Tooru if he didn't fight them every step of the way. It was for that reason that Tooru lifted his nose and sniffed, “Honestly, you two. Dragging your kouhai into this nonsense? I really don't have a crush on Iwa-chan. I mean, how could I?”

 

Watari mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘how could you  _ not _ ’, but at that moment, Iwaizumi himself walked in, ordering them to get the hell on with things so practice could start. 

 

Tooru slipped out of his corner and into the gym, triumphant-- at least, until Iwaizumi decided to blame him for something he didn't even  _ want  _ to be a part of, whacking him soundly across the back of his head.

 

“Ouch! Iwa-chan, it wasn't my fault!” he protested. He realized his mistake immediately; if he voiced the arguments swirling around his brain, well, Iwaizumi would ask for details. And Tooru refused to confess to Iwaizumi like this. He refused to confess at all!

 

_ There was nothing to confess _ .

 

Thankfully, he didn't. He only stared at Tooru suspiciously before rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Practice now, Shittykawa.”

 

/////

 

Tooru officially hated Hanamaki and Matsukawa even  _ more  _ now.

 

Before their little ‘intervention’, (as they called it, every time they threatened another one if he didn't get his act together before Spring High-- Tooru thought of it as their ‘totally-uncalled-for-ganging-up-on-him’ but that was too long for most purposes) he had been so sure he and Iwaizumi were just best friends. Really close friends. Normal stuff.

 

Now, he second-guessed everything that they’d been doing for years-- was this something they’d always done? Was he lingering on anything too long? Was he very blatantly showing something more than close friendship? The problem was, the lines between them had always been blurred. They’d always been so close, did things most best friends didn't. They were more tactile, more shameless, more in-tune with each other than the label implied, so Tooru wasn't really sure what was just…  _ them _ … and what was his feelings leaking through.

 

Eventually he was acting so off that even Iwaizumi-- dense (not really, although he certainly was  _ thick _ \--), unintelligent (also a lie, Iwaizumi was brilliant and everyone ought to know it--), caveman (roguish was probably a better word; yeah, he looked crude, but he was also really  _ hot _ \--)...

 

Tooru’s thoughts ground to a halt.

 

No. Wait. WAIT.

 

Wasn't there supposed to be some sort of build up??? Why was he the  _ last one  _ to get the memo that he was apparently  _ lusting after his best friend. _

 

“Dammit, Makki, Mattsun,” he grumbled, tearing into his milkbread with vigor-- he imagined he was ripping their heads off, instead of a piece of convenience store pastry.

 

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “What did they do? They aren't even here yet.”

 

Tooru squeaked, because he’d been so caught up in his thoughts he’d somehow actually forgotten that Iwaizumi was  _ right here.  _

 

Iwaizumi’s brow rose higher. “You all right, Trashykawa?”

 

“Yeah, fine,” Tooru said, flashing his ‘people smile’-- the one he reserved for fans and strangers he wanted to charm. It annoyed Iwaizumi to be at the end of it, so Tooru used it on him often when he wanted to distract or tease him. It was almost guaranteed to work. “Just got a little startled because I was thinking so hard! Not that a Neanderthal like Iwa-chan would be able to relate--  _ ouch _ ! Brute!” Tooru yelped, as Iwaizumi clocked him hard across the shoulder. “And you wonder why I call you a caveman…”

 

Iwaizumi glowered. “You want another smack, bastard?”

 

Tooru raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. No need to be violent!” he sang, grinning. 

 

See? Worked like a charm.

 

Matsukawa and Hanamaki arrived soon, and the lunch went on as normal. Iwaizumi didn't so much as look at him curiously, so Tooru was fairly sure he’d forgotten about Tooru’s slip up entirely, and he could rest easy.

 

/////

 

… Or so he thought, but apparently the universe was out to get him-- as soon as Hanamaki and Matsukawa had gotten their stupid, meme-y asses involved, forcing Tooru to realize he maybe, possibly found Iwaizumi nice to look at, suddenly Iwaizumi was doing all sorts of things that were undeniably attractive…  _ objectively _ , of course, because Oikawa Tooru was absolutely  _ not  _ crushing on his best friend  _ at all. _

 

_ Nope _ , Tooru thought, staring at the flash of Iwaizumi’s stomach that showed as he lifted it to wipe at his face.  _ Not crushing one bit. _

 

Okay. Fine. That was a dirty fucking lie. But it was Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s fault! They’d brought it up!

 

And really, a physical sort of crush was so easy to deal with. If Tooru just accepted it and moved on, allowed himself to admire Iwaizumi once in a while… it would be fine. Totally.

 

Iwaizumi finished changing into his training clothes, and Tooru whipped his gaze away. Iwaizumi called over his shoulder that they better not take too long, and then goes on ahead to get warmed up.

 

Tooru wanted to follow him, but unfortunately he’d been so distracted by Iwaizumi that he’d only managed to tug his shirt over his head and nothing more. 

 

“Not crushing, huh?” Matsukawa said, nudging him with an elbow. What the heck, could they read his mind?

 

“I can appreciate a nice body just fine, Mattsun,” Tooru sniffed. He pouted. “It’s your fault I even noticed it at all.”

 

Hanamaki, coming up on Matsukawa’s other side, burst out laughing. “Oh no, you didn't need  _ our  _ help noticing, don't fucking lie,” he cackled.

 

“You’ve been eyeing him like you wanna eat him up, Oikawa-san,” Yahaba chimed in.

 

“Hasn't he always,” grunted Mad Dog.

 

Tooru hated his team. So much. “No!”

 

“ _ Bullshit _ ,” Kunimi hissed. Kindaichi frantically shushed his friend, eyes flickering nervously between Tooru and Kunimi, as if waiting for something bad to happen. He didn't protest it though.

 

Watari nodded sagely, and  _ seriously _ ? Even  _ Watari _ , sweet, good, kind Watari, was turning against him??? What was the world coming to? “Sorry Oikawa-san,” he said, somehow sounding both like he meant it, and like he didn't at all. “But it's true. Pretty sure your eyes were glued to his ass that one day he accidentally wore Kunimi’s shorts?”

 

Hanamaki sighed. “That was a good day. We were all blessed for those few minutes until he realized it.”

 

The nerve…! Tooru snapped, “Shut up, Makki.”

 

Matsukawa whistled. “Possessive, are we? I thought you said it was normal to appreciate a nice body?”

 

Tooru felt heat surge to his face, and he sputtered, “Shut-- I-- Shut up, you two! What kind of friends are you? Making fun of me so much…” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Yes, okay, he was childish. So what?

 

“The kind that just wants you two to  _ get together  _ already. Seriously, your pining is so unwarranted, Oikawa,” Hanamaki said.

 

“It really is,” Matsukawa agreed.

 

“It’s not--”

 

Hanamaki sighed. “Dude. I don't know how your  _ own fucking crush  _ escaped your notice, but everyone knows you're like--”

 

“In love with Iwaizumi-san?” Yahaba suggested.

 

“That.” Hanamaki nodded at Yahaba.

 

“And why do they  _ think _ that?” Tooru demanded. In love? What? He’d only recently started thinking that yeah, Iwaizumi was pretty hot, but… in love?  _ In love? _

 

Of all people, it was Kyoutani who answered, sounding like the words were being dragged from his throat against his will, and looking just as uncomfortable and pained as if they were. “Your eyes go all soft and gooey every time you look at him-- when you aren't looking like you wanna fuck him senseless anyway,” he grunted. 

 

Tooru opened his mouth to respond, but he wasn't done. Not by a longshot. 

 

“You smile more, around him. A real smile, not that pretty little lie you flash for the cameras and squealing girls. Your voice is softer, somehow, when you talk about him, or to him. You know every little thing about him-- and yeah, you're best friends, but you read him like it's instinct, like it's a deeper urge than breathing. These two losers are best friends too,” he said, gesturing at Matsukawa and Hanamaki with a jerk of his head, “but they don't know as much about each other as you do about Iwaizumi-senpai. They can't have whole conversations without making a single sound like you two.”

 

“Kyouken-chan--” Tooru began, stunned by the fact that Kyoutani had not only noticed all this, but actually said he had. Who would have thought the Mad Dog could be so much more than angry? He was… maybe… the only word Tooru could think of right now was fluffy but that wasn't… quite right.

 

“I’m not finished,” Kyoutani growled. “You look for him, you know. When he's not beside you, you always seem to make sideways glances. Like you're waiting for something-- for him to appear. He’s the first one you look for, the last one you want to leave. You do… pretty much everything I used to do.”

 

The last part was a mumble, barely audible, and by this point, Kyoutani’s face was burning red and his eyes were riveted to the floor as if a hard enough stare would convince it to swallow him whole.

 

Everyone was gaping at Kyoutani, and he bristled under their gaze, though he didn't move to retract his statements, nor add to them. Tooru wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Did he even have to?

 

“I didn't realize you were so… romantic, Ken,” Yahaba breathed, breaking the spell of silence.

 

“Shut up, Shigeru.”

 

Tooru noted that they were on a first-name basis now, when barely a month ago they’d claimed to have been ready to slit each other's throats-- but before he could point this out and use it as a topic change, Iwaizumi walked back into the clubroom.

 

“What the fuck is going on? You guys did this last time too-- is there something I should know?” He demanded, sounding irritated and… underneath, genuinely hurt, just a little.

 

“It’s nothing, Iwa-chan! They're just ganging up on me again!” Tooru said without thinking. He just wanted that furrow between Iwaizumi’s brows to smooth over, wanted that little twinge of uncertainty in his voice to disappear.

 

“We are doing no such thing,” Hanamaki insisted, saving Tooru from having to explain why. 

 

“Nope, not at all,” Matsukawa added. Similar denials echoed across the locker room.

 

“Liars! Dirty liars!” Tooru huffed. “It’s not good to lie!”

 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at Tooru’s childish display. “Get your asses in gear already would you? I don't want any more penalty drills because practice started late again.”

 

“Yes sir,” Hanamaki and Matsukawa said, snapping salutes.

 

Tooru sniffed, but he finished tugging on his practice clothes and headed out after Iwaizumi.

 

The good news was Iwaizumi wasn't likely to ask about it right now. Training was training, and no matter how they joked, they were both serious about volleyball. They wouldn't waste their time discussing something so inane.

 

And if Tooru spent the practice a little distracted by Iwaizumi-- the shape of his muscles and the sheer power coiled in them, the contrast of his tanned skin against the white of their training shirt, his wide, uninhibited grin when he pulled off a great spike or receive… well, he could hardly help it. Like he told Matsukawa and Hanamaki, Iwaizumi was… he was definitely worth ogling at.

 

/////

 

Practice went quick, as always. Tooru was easily caught up in the familiar routine of drills and running and three-on-three games, so that eventually even Iwaizumi, drenched in sweat, panting and flushed from exertion, wasn't enough to drag his attention away from perfecting his technique as much as he could.

 

But like everything good, it had to come to an end. It was Friday, so instead of showering in the locker room, Tooru and Iwaizumi would be heading to Tooru’s house to shower, then they’d do homework and hang out-- it was a tradition, one they’d been doing since middle school, and that they were especially strict about keeping since this was their last year together. Next year, they’d be in different colleges, different teams. They’d still see each other, still be best friends, of course. But they wouldn't have the luxury of being together almost 24/7 anymore, of training in the same space, for the same amount of time… 

 

Point being, they needed to value what time they had now.

 

“So…” Iwaizumi started, and Tooru dragged himself from his thoughts to face him curiously. “What was up with you guys earlier?”

 

For a second, Tooru was confused. Then he knew; Iwaizumi meant the whole locker room debacle. It really… it really was bothering him, wasn't it?

 

It made sense that it did though… he was Tooru’s best friend, so he was usually the first to know of anything involving him. And if it was just harmless teasing, like Hanamaki and Matsukawa seemed to be trying to play it off as, Iwaizumi had never been excluded from that either.

 

Not to mention that even all this time later, Iwaizumi still held a little bit of guilt over Tooru’s knee-- even though it wasn't his fault, even though it had been Tooru’s entirely-- and if it were something serious, Iwaizumi would hate himself for missing it. He was probably worried it could be something like that again…

 

Tooru could tell Iwaizumi was trying to make the question sound flippant, like he didn't really care, but there was tension writ across his shoulders, a sort of brittleness in his voice.

 

“Aw, are you worried about me, Iwa-chan?” he sang, grinning brightly. The thought made him happy, as shitty as that made him. He couldn't help it! It was nice to feel valued.

 

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grumbled. He didn't refute it though, so…

 

Tooru’s smile softened. “It’s nothing, Iwa-chan, Makki and Mattsun are just teasing me because they think I have a crush, is all. And they somehow roped our kouhais into it too!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “They’re so irritating.”

 

And now that he was started, he just needed to rant about it. Iwaizumi was his best friend! As long as Tooru didn't let him know he was the object of the crush, it was fine, right? And nothing would implicate the truth more than if Tooru tried to dodge the subject anyway. “Ughhhhh! Iwa-chan it's so  _ irritating _ \-- they keep telling me I have this crush and I didn't have one until they pointed it out! And now I can't stop staring when he's around, and, and--”

 

Iwaizumi chuckled, and Tooru knew he was relieved it was something so shallow. “Is that all?”

 

“No! It's not all!” Tooru said, because now that he’d gotten started he needed to get it off his chest. “He’s so _handsome_ \-- Iwa-chan, it's not fair! Why didn't I notice before? And his muscles??? How am I supposed to deal with those? They're so sculpted it's gotta be illegal! And _oh my god._ His eyes. Iwa-chan. His eyes. Oh my _godddd_.”

 

“Okay, okay. I get it.” 

 

Tooru threw his hands up. “No you don’t! It’s a crisis, Iwa-chan! What am I supposed to do now?”

 

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck do you think, dumbass. You tell him? Matsukawa and Hanamaki are right this time. It's better that you say something sooner.”

 

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru whined. “I can't do that!”

 

“Of course you can.”

 

“I can't!”

 

“You can.”

 

“No!”

 

There was a spell of silence. Finally Iwaizumi sighed. “Fine, whatever. I’m telling you, it’s not that hard to go tell him, but if you’re too chickenshit to do it…” He shrugged, ignoring Tooru’s yelp of protest.

 

“I’m not  _ scared  _ Iwa-chan!” Tooru huffed. “But I’m not going to confess just because I find him nice to look at. That's so shallow.” It was true, wasn't it? To ask someone out just because they looked good was commonplace enough, but with someone like Iwaizumi, who Tooru had known for ages… it wouldn't be fair. Iwaizumi deserved so much  _ good _ for all the shit he put up with as Tooru’s best friend, and just in general-- he was a great guy. An amazing guy. He was almost unbelievably kind and strong and…

 

Fuck.

 

He deserved so much better than Tooru, who only liked to stare at him lately, and think about what nasty things he’d like to do to him.

 

He deserved someone who loved him.

 

“You’re a shallow guy,” Iwaizumi retorted, smirking teasingly.

 

“Rude! Iwa-chan, I’ll have you know I'm deeper than the Pacific Ocean!” Tooru stuck his nose in the air, but he was struggling not to laugh himself.

 

“You’re  _ buried in shit _ deeper than the Pacific Ocean is all,” Iwaizumi muttered back, and Tooru rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh, haha, Iwa-chan.”

 

/////

 

They got to Tooru’s house soon enough, and after calling out that they were home (Iwaizumi had long since stopped apologizing for intruding, instead echoing Tooru’s call of being back, because this was pretty much his second home; the same was true in reverse when they were at the Iwaizumi residence instead), they headed up the stairs bickering over who would go first to shower.

 

They ended up playing rock, scissors, paper for it-- and Tooru won, gloating in singsong until Iwaizumi slapped him upside the head and threatened to go ahead anyway if he didn't get on with it. Tooru whined loudly about the brutality of it, but he went.

 

By the time they were both finished, all Tooru wanted to do was sleep-- and if the yawns Iwaizumi was letting out were any indication, he felt the same way. Still, this being their senior year and all, this was no time to slack, so they begrudgingly (in Tooru’s case) took out their homework and got down to business.

 

“Iwa-chaaaaan,” he complained, fifteen minutes later, as Iwaizumi let out yet another yawn, which then prompted Tooru to echo it. Stupid contagious yawns. This wasn't helping him stay up. “Stop yawning. It's making  _ me  _ yawn.”

 

“I can't help it, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi snapped, with little actual heat. Almost to himself, he mused, “Maybe I need some caffeine.”

 

“Ooh, yes that sounds good!” Tooru chirped, perking up at the thought of some warm coffee mixed with milk and sugar-- or maybe a cool soda. He wasn't feeling too picky, for once.

 

Iwaizumi snorted. “I wasn't offering to get us drinks, brat.” 

 

“Iwa-chan, please! I'm so dead on my feet from all those extra serves--”

 

“That’s your own fault, you didn't listen the first time I tried to drag you home, you ass--”

 

“--and I’ve read the same question like a hundred times by now!” Tooru finished, pinning Iwaizumi with his best puppy eyes. This, of course, was an extreme exaggeration. In truth, he’d probably only read it about five times-- but that was more than he should have had to! Usually he processed things very quickly.

 

Tooru knew that Iwaizumi would give in. He always did, in the end. He was reliable that way.

 

And just like Tooru knew he would, Iwaizumi caved. “Fine,” he sighed. “Coffee?”

 

“Yay!” Tooru beamed triumphantly. “Yes please, Iwa-chan.”

 

Muttering to himself about spoiled children and why  _ he  _ was always the one doing things for them, Iwaizumi dutifully trooped out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. Tooru sighed happily to himself. He was so lucky-- Iwaizumi never  _ really  _ had to do any of the things he did. He could just as easily ignore Tooru or make him make his own drink. He could just as easily protest until Tooru went and made both of theirs for once.

 

But he never did. He bitched quite a bit, sometimes, but Iwaizumi always, always took care of Tooru. Usually better than Tooru did himself.

 

Soon enough, Iwaizumi came back up the stairs, nudging the door open with his hip since his hands were occupied by the two steaming mugs he held. “Yay, Iwa-chan!”

 

“Bastard,” he replied, setting down one mug on Tooru’s desk and taking a generous sip of the other. “Couldn't even stand up to help me with the door?”

 

Tooru flapped a hand in dismissal. “You were fine, Iwa-chan.” He reached for his own mug and blew lightly across the surface of it a few times.

 

“Shittykawa,” he grunted.

 

“Rude!”

 

“Get back to work, Crappykawa,” Iwaizumi said.

 

“You don't need to keep calling me names!” Tooru protested. Still, he uncapped his pen again and started to write out an answer.

 

/////

 

Later, they found themselves sprawled across the floor of Tooru’s room, watching Netflix together. It was Iwaizumi’s turn to pick today, so they were doing a Godzilla marathon. 

 

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru said, as on-screen, the monster laid waste to the city.

 

Iwaizumi hummed in acknowledgement.

 

“We’ll keep doing this, right?” Even after they graduated. Even after they went their separate ways. They’d still see each other, still talk and tell each other everything, still argue back and forth as comfortably as always, still do the things they always did-- that was what Tooru was asking.

 

Iwaizumi didn't hesitate, didn't need even a second to puzzle it out. He knew what Tooru meant, as he always did. “Idiot,” he huffed. “Of course we will. Why wouldn't we?”

 

Tooru smiled. “Good. I like this.”

 

Iwaizumi reached out, tapping the spacebar once to pause the movie. Tooru had half a mind to laugh at the awkward frame it had gotten stopped at, but Iwaizumi was facing him with a look in his eyes-- the same kind he had on the court, the kind that commanded Tooru to  _ trust  _ him, and to do it so completely as to let it rule his every move and thought and instinct. “We’re best friends, Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, no insult, no room for doubt. “Always will be.”

 

Tooru sighed, content, and shuffled closer to Iwaizumi’s side. He nudged their shoulders together. Iwaizumi nudged him back.

 

And this… yeah. Tooru was glad for this. He wanted this forever.

 

The night passed like any other Friday night. They watched their movies until midnight, and then Iwaizumi forced Tooru to get out the futons and get into bed as he went about cleaning up the mess they’d left behind. The laptop was shut off and kept away, the homework neatly stacked and stowed in their respective bags… the dishes were brought down and (if the sound of running water drifting in through the open door meant what Tooru thought it did) washed clean.

 

Tooru’s family had already gone to sleep, so Iwaizumi shuffled in as quietly as he could, and Tooru fought to keep his features schooled.

 

Right on cue, Iwaizumi grumbled: “Shittykawa, do you need to splay yourself across  _ my  _ futon too?” This was punctuated by a light (but still hard enough to wind Tooru) kick to his stomach.

 

“Iwa-chaaannnnnn!” Tooru whined, rolling over into his own futon… mostly. “Why are you such a brute? You shouldn't kick your friends!”

 

“You shouldn't be taking up two futons,” came the retort.

 

Tooru let out an unintelligible gurgle in response as Iwaizumi lay down beside him. 

 

“G’night, Oikawa.”

 

“Good night.”

 

/////

 

Saturdays were the one day they didn't wake up early. Now that they weren't technically supposed to be attending club activities (they usually did anyway), Iwaizumi had insisted that Saturdays, aside from their usual rest day, were for sleeping in.

 

Which is how Tooru found himself waking up to warm, early morning sunlight streaming in through his blinds, right into his eyes.

 

Talk about a rude awakening. Hmph.

 

Tooru stumbled to his feet just long enough to shut the blinds a little-- not completely, but enough that the sun wasn't trying to stab him in the face with its rays anymore-- and then slipped back under the covers for a short nap before breakfast time. 

 

Beside him, Iwaizumi stirred, and Tooru froze, afraid he’d woken him. Then he settled again. Tooru released the breath he’d been holding in a soft sigh of relief. Good, he hadn't. Grumpy Iwa-chan was even  _ grumpier  _ in the mornings.

 

Tooru squirmed a little until he was more comfortable, but it seemed that now that he was up, he’d have a little more trouble falling back asleep-- not that he had the energy to get up and do stuff, but… he wouldn't be drifting off just yet, probably.

 

His eyes fell on Iwaizumi’s face and lingered there.

 

God, Iwaizumi was… he was beautiful, actually. Especially now, his face devoid of a frown or stern expression, brow smooth and unlined. His jaw was sharp, his skin golden, lips thin but looking so  _ kissable _ … he looked like an image pulled from a magazine. Yes, his mouth was open just a crack, and he had a smidge of drool on one corner. Yes, his hair was mussed more than usual and stuck up in odd directions.

 

But.

 

He still looked…

 

Really good.

 

Tooru could almost picture waking up like this, in the same bed, for different reasons, after a different kind of all-nighter…

 

Nope. Not going there. Not. At. All.

 

Tooru felt his cheeks warm and turned away. He was going to sleep. He was not going to stare at Iwaizumi anymore.

 

Seriously though, how was it fair that Iwaizumi could look so adorable asleep? Wasn't there some kind of rule against that? Like, he was hot enough awake, shouldn't he look less perfect when he wasn't?

 

And wasn't  _ Tooru  _ supposed to be the pretty one?

 

Ughhhhh it wasn't  _ fair. _

 

/////

 

The next time he woke up, it was to Iwaizumi nudging him awake. “C’mon,” he said. “Food.”

 

“Aw, Iwa-chan is always so gruff in the mornings!” Tooru cooed, though his own voice crackled like he hadn't used it in years as opposed to a few hours. “How cute! Now you even  _ sound  _ like a caveman!”

 

“Shut.” Iwaizumi didn't even bother with the second word. How adorable. Tooru snickered and pushed himself to his feet, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand. 

 

“Well then, Iwa-chan, shall we go?”

 

“How’re you so awake already?” Iwaizumi muttered, lips pursed in what could have been a pout. Tooru wanted to kiss it, so he turned away and pulled the door open so they could head downstairs to eat. That simply wouldn't do.

 

“Some of us don't need as much beauty sleep because we're already beautiful!” He replied cheerfully. As if he hadn't just (and still was) thinking about putting his lips on Iwaizumi’s, maybe just to see if  _ that  _ would wake him up properly.

 

The scent of grilled mackerel was wafting up from the kitchen, filling the house. Tooru sighed. That meant Onee-san had forgotten to crack open a window while cooking again. Goodness, she was going to set off the sprinklers one day if she kept doing that. It smelled heavenly though, Tooru couldn't deny that. She was a good cook, almost as good as their mom.

 

Now if only she’d stop making Tooru dash down to open a vent of some sort to prevent everything they owned from getting soaked by their fire prevention system!

 

Tooru dashed down the stairs, almost slipping on the last few as he hurried to the front door, throwing it open. “Nee-san!” he yelled into the kitchen. “Use the windows! Or the exhaust! Something!”

 

“Oops, sorry! At my place, the windows are almost always open!”

 

“But this isn't your house! We almost never open anything here unless we have to!”

 

“Are you gonna eat or not, Tooru?”

 

Well, when she said it like that…

 

Tooru blew out a breath, then joined everyone else at the dining table-- his parents, his nephew, and Iwaizumi, significantly more awake now, a cup of green tea in his hands as he smiled and answered all of Takeru’s questions about volleyball.

 

His sister set down the food on the table, saying, “Takeru, that's enough now. Let Hajime eat.”

 

“Yes mom,” Takeru said, obediently, even as Iwaizumi insisted it was fine.

 

“How come you never look that excited when you ask me?” Tooru teased.

 

Without missing a beat, Takeru replied, “Iwaizumi-nii is cooler.”

 

Which… wow, Takeru totally didn't pull his punches, did he? “Takeru! You're supposed to support your uncle!” 

 

Takeru was right though. Tooru wouldn't be anything without Iwaizumi at his side, always there to spike his sets, no matter what blockers jumped to stop him. He was the one who dragged Tooru out of every funk, made sure never to let him push himself too far. He was the one Tooru could rely on-- in any and every situation. And Iwaizumi knew it just as much as Tooru did.

 

“Hmph. Fine. Iwa-chan is pretty cool,” he agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. “But he needs me to be that cool! Or he’d have nothing to spike!” Yes, that was petty. But that was just who Tooru was.

 

His family rolled their eyes at his antics, and Tooru expected Iwaizumi to ignore him or make some kind of retort. But he didn't. Instead, Iwaizumi said, “Yeah. That's true, Takeru.” Though… he wasn't looking at Takeru at all, even though that was who he was addressing. His eyes were fixed on Tooru’s, boring into him like he meant to see straight through him. “Your uncle is the reason I can look so cool-- he makes sure the ball is always in the right place for me to hit it, you know?”

 

No fair, Iwaizumi. No fair at all. How was Tooru supposed to let his crush fade away when he said things like that completely seriously?

 

“Oh,” Takeru said. “I guess Tooru-nii is pretty cool too, then.”

 

Tooru sighed, smiling softly at Iwaizumi, who grinned back at him before picking up his conversation with Takeru again.

 

He was really, really lucky.

 

/////

 

After they ate, Tooru and Iwaizumi took charge of clean up so that Tooru’s parents could go out on their monthly date. Momoka-nee had already cooked, and besides, she needed to help Takeru finish up his homework so he could enjoy the rest of the weekend, so she was excused from helping too.

 

They worked like this: Tooru washed, Iwaizumi dried, and when they were finished, they put away the dishes together, tucking them away into the right cupboards. When they finished, they headed out into the backyard to play a bit-- they wouldn't be doing serious practice, not so soon after eating, and certainly not in so small a space-- but they could pass the ball back and forth a bit.

 

Takeru joined in as soon as Momoka-nee let him go, and Tooru and Iwaizumi taught him as best they could, demonstrating different techniques and letting him try them out until he got the hang of it, or at least the rough idea. Tooru would help Takeru adjust his positioning and give him pointers for control and accuracy, while Iwaizumi gave him tips relating to power and avoiding blocks. It was fun. Relaxing, even.

 

It hit him yet again: Tooru would miss playing with Iwaizumi. He’d miss it a lot. The synergy they had on-court, the understanding they shared even without verbal signals-- it was a rare thing, he knew. And sure, it wasn't like stupid Tobio-chan and his shrimpy sunshine spiker, but it was still amazing, what he and Iwaizumi had; built up over the friendship they’d shared for basically all their lives… very few people could boast of a relationship so seamless.

 

All the more reason to really enjoy moments like this, Tooru supposed.

 

Eventually, Iwaizumi decided to head home-- by then, it was already three in the afternoon, so neither Tooru nor Takeru complained… much.

 

But then he was gone, and Takeru decided he wanted to play video games instead of volleyball, so Tooru ushered him inside and made him take a shower first before anything else. He’d gotten pretty sweaty, after all.

 

Tooru went about his usual business then, trusting that when Takeru was finished, he’d come hang out in Tooru’s room because being watched by his uncle apparently beat being watched by his mom; Tooru could relate. Momoka-nee could be a bit of a nag. He wasted time online for a while, posting to his various social media accounts, even taking a selfie or two with his new filter app.

 

On his own though, he couldn't help but think back on his years of high school. Sure, they weren't over quite yet, but they would be, soon. He and Iwaizumi and the rest of their wonderful team would go down different roads, pursue different futures, and wow, Tooru kind of wanted to cry now; reflecting about all this had been a very poor idea. They’d run in different circles, meet new people, and… what if they drifted apart? Iwaizumi said they wouldn't, but-- but--

 

How could he know? How could he be certain? Things happened! And gods, Tooru just couldn't lose this. He couldn't lose  _ him _ \-- Iwaizumi. He just couldn't.

 

And okay, maybe that was selfish. Surely Iwaizumi would be better off without him? He was bratty and he couldn't take care of himself because he liked to push past every limit he had even when he knew he couldn't force it too far or he’d break-- he was flippant and a flirt and he teased too much, he was a dork that believed in aliens (they were real though, he was sure of it) and stayed up way too late because he was obsessed with volleyball more than was probably healthy… he was self-centered and kind of vain and he also craved praise and recognition-- he was jealous of a lot of people and insecure and Iwaizumi was just--

 

He was everything Tooru needed. He was his better half-- he was the decent one who gave their opponents respect when Tooru felt too childish to bother, he was the one who checked up on Tooru, the one that enforced boundaries and limits to keep Tooru’s body functioning and alive instead of crumbling from over-exertion. He was the one who called Tooru out on his shit, who shooed away the girls that flocked Tooru when he really ought to get to practice… he let Tooru rant and ramble about his conspiracy theories and his evidence, sat through every sci-fi and “documentary” (only Iwaizumi used quotation marks for those; Tooru was sure they were legit). He let Tooru keep him on the phone late at night, sometimes set himself alarms to wake him up so he could call Tooru at four a.m. and tell him to  _ go the fuck to bed, Assikawa, stop making me do this shit every time. _ He let Tooru know that he was doing good, great-- praised him honestly and whole-heartedly, supported him in every match, in every way. He reassured Tooru constantly that he didn't need to compare himself, and somehow never let him grow too much of an ego at the same time.

 

He was… he was Tooru’s  _ best friend. _

 

More than that. He was…

 

Before Tooru good decide just  _ what  _ he was, exactly, Takeru let himself in, already talking about the puzzle he was stuck on in his DS game, and could Tooru help him?

 

Tooru took the distraction gratefully. Somehow, the rest of that sentence felt like it would be too heavy for only three in the afternoon. It felt like completing that idea would involve some sort of momentous realization, and Tooru was just not ready for that. Not right now. 

 

/////

 

Though Tooru did his best to ignore the twinge of guilt for procrastinating what he was now fairly sure was some important revelation regarding his relationship with Iwaizumi (he had a sinking feeling it had to do with his recent crush, too), soon enough, Momoka-nee took Takeru home for the week, which left Tooru to his own devices. That, in turn, meant that he had no reason to keep putting it off.

 

Well. Actually. He didn't actually finish his homework yesterday… and okay, maybe what he had left wasn't due until the next Friday, but getting a headstart was a good idea! And he had been meaning to binge that one series to see if it was any good… and he wanted to rewatch those games he had on tape afterwards…

 

By the time he truly ran out of ways to procrastinate, it was nearing one in the morning. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard with that whole running away from his problems thing…

 

Probably.

 

With a sigh, Tooru shut off his laptop and flopped onto his futon, finally allowing his thoughts to run wild for the first time since Takeru had stepped into his room earlier that day. 

 

Apparently what his brain had been nagging him so much about was… reviewing all his memories with Iwaizumi? There were… there were a lot, Tooru knew, but now it struck him just how often those memories involved Iwaizumi supporting him in some way, or else caring for him or indulging him… 

 

And just like he'd thought so often lately-- he was scared to lose him. He wanted that all his life, as selfish as that was, and…

 

What was it Kyoutani had been saying the day before…? 

 

_ You smile more, around him.  _

 

_ Your voice is softer, somehow, when you talk about him, or to him. _

 

_ You know every little thing about him-- and yeah, you're best friends, but you read him like it's instinct, like it's a deeper urge than breathing. _

 

_ He’s the first one you look for, the last one you want to leave. _

 

Did he really do all that? His memories sure seemed to point to yes, but… how could he not have noticed before? You’d think he would have recognized he was in--

 

HE WAS WHAT.

 

He was in love with Iwaizumi??? Since when? What?

 

It made sense, of course. Iwaizumi, as he’d repeatedly reminded himself over the course of the day, was everything to Tooru aside from his family and volleyball. But??? In love??? How had everyone seen it but him?

 

Even _ Kyoutani  _ noticed before he did???

 

Before he was quite aware of what he was doing, Tooru found his phone pressed to his ear, ringing.

 

“...’lo?”

 

… Was Tooru fucking stupid? Why did he call Iwaizumi? He couldn't tell  _ Iwaizumi _ he was in love with Iwaizumi! 

 

“Fuckin’… Trashykawa, why…? It's one fucking a.m., what do you want?”

 

_ Shit shit shit. _

 

“I’m hanging up.”

 

The words burst from Tooru before he could stop them. “No! Iwa-chan wait--”

 

“ _ What _ .”

 

Well. What could it hurt? Iwaizumi already knew he had  _ a  _ crush. Might as well tell him-- he just had to leave out the bit that specified it was Iwaizumi.

 

“I think I'm in love with him,” Tooru breathed. He already felt lighter for having admitted it out loud, though the silence stretching longer each moment was nerve-wracking. Would Iwaizumi react badly after all? Would he--

 

“Oi. Oikawa. Is that it? Are you going to tell me about it or not?”

 

Of course he wouldn't. He’d never leave Tooru over something so inconsequential as this.

 

“It’s just… Iwa-chan, he’s always there for me! And he makes me smile a lot, and he makes me actually  _ want _ to be myself, and-- I want to have him around all my life! And it's--” Tooru laughed softly. “It’s such a  _ cliche _ , isn’t it? But I want to have him there through my ups and downs and his ups and downs, and I--”

 

Iwaizumi hummed.

 

“Are you falling asleep, Iwa-chan?” Tooru demanded, both amused and offended.

 

“No, you asshole. Of course I'm not asleep. You just said you think you’re in love with a guy-- that's a big thing.  _ You  _ might be a shitty enough guy to fall asleep when someone tells you something so important, but--”

 

“How rude!”

 

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line; probably Iwaizumi shifting into a more comfortable position. “So, Oikawa? What are you going to do about it?”

 

“I… nothing.”

 

Iwaizumi scoffed. “That’s dumb.”

 

“Wha-- Iwa-chan! Confessing is scary you know! What if he reacts badly?” Sure, so far, Iwaizumi had taken this whole crush thing in stride, but what if knowing it was actually  _ him  _ Tooru had a crush on was just… too weird?

 

“That would be shitty. If he gets all upset and weird just because you’re gay for him, he doesn't deserve you.” There was a little more shuffling, and then, “Besides, you're Oikawa Tooru-- there are literally a thousand other people who’d love to be in his place. If he can't see how lucky he is to have you like him, he's too stupid to date.”

 

Tooru felt tears prick at his eyes. Stupid emotions! That was nothing! Why was he so touched?

 

“Aw, Iwa-chan, I didn't know you thought so much of me!”

 

“I don't. He’ll probably dump you when he realizes how much of a brat you are,” Iwaizumi replied flatly.

 

That startled a laugh from Tooru. Someone else might, but Iwaizumi? If he meant to do that, he would have done it a long time ago. Maybe everyone was right.

 

Maybe he should just confess.

 

Tooru sucked in a breath, but as he opened his mouth…

 

It seemed wrong. Too easy.

 

Iwaizumi deserved better.

 

And if Tooru was going to be selfish and bratty and ask Iwaizumi to be with him anyway-- he could at least ask him the right way. He’d ask him to his face, he’d make some sort of gesture to show him how serious he was about this. Iwaizumi deserved at least that much.

 

“You’re right, Iwa-chan. I should confess, huh?”

 

“Duh.”

 

“I will. On Monday. Good night, Iwa-chan!”

 

A grunt of acknowledgement, and then the call was ended-- not even a proper goodbye, Tooru noted. He was giddy at the prospect of tomorrow, now that he was settled on confessing. Iwaizumi wouldn't abandon him for it, he’d said so; well, indirectly. He hadn't been talking about himself, but Iwaizumi would never condemn a behavior he himself would do. He wasn't a hypocrite. 

 

Tooru fell asleep an hour later, mind still swirling with plans for telling Iwaizumi that it was him who Tooru loved-- always had been.

 

/////

 

Tooru spent the next day plotting out what he'd do to win Iwaizumi over. He got together all the things he’d need, practiced over and over until he knew what he'd say to Iwaizumi and how he’d say it. He even texted the rest of the team to thank them for their meddling (and to threaten them not to interfere with his plans for Monday).

 

And then it was Monday. Tooru woke up extra early so that he’d have time to gather the last few elements of his Grand Confession Plan (the capitals were, of course, important). Normally, Iwaizumi would come meet Tooru (or in most cases, wake him up) at his house, so he texted Iwaizumi he’d be going ahead to the school-- claiming a need to talk to a teacher since he’d forgotten last Friday-- and then got dressed. 

 

He was careful to make sure he looked his absolute best, of course, long enough that by the time he was out of the bathroom, he realized he’d need to run to avoid meeting up with Iwaizumi. 

 

Why oh why was beauty such hard work?

 

Tooru gathered his things together and dashed down the stairs, only taking a quick detour into the kitchen to grab the agedashi tofu he’d cooked the night before. He called out a goodbye, and then he was off again.

 

He realized about five feet away from his house that running would mess up all the work he’d put into his appearance today, which would not only be a terrible waste of his time and energy, but would also ruin the perfect confession he had planned out. Tooru forced himself to slow to brisk walk. If he ran into Iwaizumi, he’d just need to come up with an excuse.

 

Tooru was a pretty good liar anyway, and he was good at thinking on his feet. He could do it.

 

Even if Iwaizumi somehow always  _ knew  _ when Tooru was lying.

 

He walked faster.

 

/////

 

He managed to get to the flower shop in time, and he bought a small bouquet of tulips (roses seemed so overdone, besides, these were such a lovely color) that he carefully tucked into his gym bag, out of sight. It wouldn't do for the surprise to be spoiled, after all.

 

As planned, he texted Hanamaki as he neared the school, so that he could usher Iwaizumi out of the club room if he was still there, or keep him otherwise occupied while Tooru set everything up.

 

In the club room, Matsukawa was waiting for him. “Took you long enough.”

 

“Shut up, Mattsun. I needed to look even  _ more  _ perfect today, you know, to impress Iwa-chan!” Tooru tossed his head. “That's pretty hard to achieve when you're already as perfect as I am!”

 

“Which is… not at all, right?” Matsukawa held out a hand in a ‘give me’ gesture.

 

“Rude, Mattsun!” Tooru handed him a small stack of heart-shaped post-it notes.

 

He squinted at them. “Dude, what the fuck, these are corny. So corny.”

 

“No!” Tooru had already begun sticking some up on Iwaizumi’s locker, so he was really just being contrary for the sake of it. He knew they were corny. That had been the point, actually, because while Tooru did mean every word he’d written, he also liked annoying Iwaizumi a little, so he’d thought… “Okay, fine, a little, but. I thought it would be funny! And it's not like they're lies or anything, I mean them, and--”

 

“Wow,” Matsukawa said. “Chill man. I’ve never seen you so nervous over anything before.” He set down his stack of notes and took the few steps needed to bridge the gap between them, laying his hand on Tooru’s shoulder. “Relax. We wouldn't have told you to go for it if we didn't think it was mutual, and anyway, we both know Iwaizumi’s secretly a sap. He’ll appreciate it even if he pretends to hate it.”

 

Tooru sucked in a breath. Held it for three seconds. Let it out. “Right. Right, of course.” He smiled. “Thank you, Mattsun.”

 

Matsukawa’s mouth quirked. “Thank me later, when you have a boyfriend.”

 

In no time at all, everything was ready, and Matsukawa left Tooru to go fetch Iwaizumi. He’d say something about Tooru having not yet arrived, could Iwaizumi try calling him? He wasn't picking up for Matsukawa… or something. Tooru had a feeling Matsukawa would change it last minute just to mess with him.

 

Point being, Iwaizumi would be here soon, which meant Tooru would finally get everything off his chest.

 

He hoped Matsukawa was right about the mutual thing.

 

/////

 

It seemed like hours (it actually couldn't have been much more than five minutes) before he heard footsteps approaching the clubroom. It seemed like even longer before the door swung open.

 

“What the fuck.” Iwaizumi was blinking at the paper hearts stuck all over his locker, startled and confused enough that he hadn't noticed Tooru standing in the corner nearest the door.

 

Well. Not the reaction Tooru had hoped for, but definitely expected.

 

Here went nothing.

 

Iwaizumi stepped towards the locker, brow furrowed, and Tooru plastered on his biggest smile as he moved forward. “Surprise, Iwa-chan!”

 

Iwaizumi whirled with a curse, almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he’d done it.

 

“Fucking. Shit. What-- Have you been here the whole time?” Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered to the flowers in Tooru’s hands, then back up to meet Tooru’s. He didn't acknowledge them.

 

Tooru chuckled a little. “Well obviously, Iwa-chan! Didn't you notice?” He stepped closer, holding out the bouquet. “Anyway, these are for you.”

 

“I--” Iwaizumi’s face was steadily turning red, much to Tooru’s delight. He had such a cute blush! It went all the way up to his ears, too. “What is this, Trashykawa?” He didn't take the flowers.

 

“It’s my confession!” Tooru answered easily. “You always were slow, Iwa-chan, but really.” That said, Tooru reached out to take Iwaizumi’s hands-- and Iwaizumi let him-- so he could press the bouquet into his grip. His voice softened, and he dropped his gaze to where his fingers still clasped Iwaizumi’s. “It’s just… Matsukawa and Hanamaki… actually, of all people,  _ Kyoutani  _ helped me realize that I may have been in love with you for… maybe forever. I don't know. A while, at least.”

 

He let his thumb brush against the back of Iwaizumi’s knuckles, and then he pulled his hands away. “So would you go out with me, Iwaizumi Hajime? I was thinking we could go to the park after practice, have a picnic. I made you your favorite.”

 

Iwaizumi was now approximately the color of a cherry, but his voice was even as he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Am I meant to be impressed by all this?”

 

Tooru stared.

 

“I'm not one of your fangirls, Shittykawa. I don't… I don't need your pretty flowers or your cheesy notes, and your cooking will probably kill me--”

 

Tooru squawked in offense, and Iwaizumi cracked a small smile.

 

“I don't need all this,” he repeated, expression smoothing out again. “It’s not going to dazzle me or anything.”

 

For a moment, Tooru’s heart dropped to his feet, and he was ready to take it all back, apologize-- but then he caught the challenge in Iwaizumi’s stance, in his eyes.

 

He grinned. “Oh, of course. Silly me-- Iwa-chan is the kind of brute who doesn't appreciate traditional romantic gestures very much--” As he said this, Tooru took several paces closer to Iwaizumi, forcing him back against the lockers. “You're more of an actions over words kind of guy, aren't you?”

 

“If you know that much,” Iwaizumi near-growled, “What are you still waiting for?”

 

Tooru smirked even wider. “Good point, Iwa-chan.”

 

Kissing Iwaizumi was like nothing Tooru could have imagined. It wasn't like fireworks, or sparks, or magic. It was, truth be told, a little messy, a little awkward-- it was slow and chaste, and Tooru longed to deepen it but he didn't want to do it unless he knew Iwaizumi wanted it too; which meant he’d wait for Iwaizumi to initiate anything more, even if that meant waiting forever.

 

And maybe that made it sound lackluster, or disappointing, but nothing could be further from the truth. It was the best kiss Tooru had ever had in his life, solely because it was from Iwaizumi, no one else-- because in every meeting of their lips, in every movement of their mouths, there was love, and history, and years upon years of silent and not-so-silent communication. It was the kind of kiss no one but Iwaizumi and Tooru could have shared.

 

When they finally pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths, Tooru licked it off slow, taking smug satisfaction in the way Iwaizumi watched him do it, Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallowed visibly.  “So, Iwa-chan,” Tooru began. “Was that a yes?”

 

“You know the answer to that already,” Iwaizumi grunted, as he stepped back.

 

Tooru did. If Iwaizumi had meant to turn him down, Tooru knew he wouldn't have gotten far with that kiss. He wouldn't have gotten far with any of this. He still liked to hear it though.

 

As if reading his mind, Iwaizumi sighed, “But yes, you idiot. Now get dressed and get to practice, would you?”

 

“Yay, Iwa-chan’s my boyfriend now!” Tooru cheered, unzipping to his gym bag and tugging his shirt off so he could change.

 

“Shut up, Shittykawa.”

 

“You can't call me that anymore! We're dating!”

 

“Then maybe I should dump you.”

 

“No!!! IWA-CHANNN.”

 

“Ugh,  _ shut up _ .”

 

/////

 

**BONUS SCENE:**

 

Outside the clubroom, the rest of the Seijou volleyball team sighed in relief.

 

“Thank god that's over,” Hanamaki said.

 

Matsukawa nodded. “Agreed.”

 

“I feel like we’ve just traded one sort of sexual tension for another,” Yahaba muttered, and the others grumbled their own similar thoughts.

 

Kyoutani grunted, gently knocking Yahaba’s head with his knuckles. “Who cares? Anything’s better than dealing with his pining.”

 

No one could really argue with that, so they started back towards the gym.

 

“Well, now that we have  _ one  _ pair of useless gays down…” Hanamaki nudged Matsukawa with his elbow. “We should get started on another pair, don't you think?”

 

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “And who do you mean by that?”

 

Hanamaki hummed to himself, spinning around so he could walk backwards and observe their kouhai, who were squinting at him in varying amounts of suspicion. He had faith that Matsukawa wouldn't let him trip or slam into a post or anything. “Maybe Kindaichi and Kunimi?”

 

The first-years in question froze, wide-eyed. “ _ What. _ ”

 

The second-years turned to consider them. “I mean. It's not that bad, but…” Yahaba started.

 

“Might as well,” Watari said.

 

Kindaichi looked downright terrified. “Kunimi,” he said. “Maybe we should run.”

 

Kunimi, on the other hand, scowled. “I hate running.”

 

And then, to everyone's confusion and surprise, Kindaichi made a noise of frustration and scooped Kunimi up bridal style before booking it out of there.

 

Kunimi hadn't even blinked.

 

For a moment, no one knew what to say.

 

“Maybe they don't need our help after all,” Matsukawa mumbled, still staring after them.

 

“Nah, they definitely do.” Hanamaki started moving again, and everyone else followed. “They can do that, but not date?”

 

“He’s got a point,” Yahaba noted.

 

Matsukawa shrugged. “Yeah, that's true.”


End file.
